


Waste Not

by nochick_fics



Category: Death Note
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:24:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7865545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nochick_fics/pseuds/nochick_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>L has frosting on his face.  Light intervenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waste Not

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal on 12/4/12.

It was a little thing, really.  Insignificant in the grand scheme of otherwise crucial events. 

But it still bugged the hell out of Light.

He looked away from the television and glanced at the man sitting beside him on the couch, the same man who was, incidentally, handcuffed to him as part of an investigation into Light’s innocence.  (As if he would ever hurt anybody.)  The smudge of cake frosting on the side of Ryuzaki’s mouth had been there for a good few minutes now since he had finished eating his cake, white and creamy and appearing all too inappropriate to the young man who hadn’t been properly laid in quite some time due to his recent living arrangement.  Still, the detective just sat there in that strange way he had of doing, reading a book and sipping coffee and  _not wiping his damn mouth._

And Light couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ryuzaki.”

Ryuzaki finished the page that he was reading before acknowledging him.   “Yes, Light?”

“You have frosting on the side of your mouth.”

“Do I?” 

Pale digits began trailing over an equally pale face, seeking out the offense in question.  To Light’s continued annoyance, Ryuzaki managed to miss the spot completely.

“No, it’s right there… to the left… higher… not  _that_  high.”

At this rate, it was going to take forever.  With a sigh of frustration, Light reached out and wiped away the frosting with his index finger.  “There,” he said, showing him the evidence. 

“I see.”

Ryuzaki stared at the frosting as if it were some heretofore undiscovered species. 

_And then he sucked it off Light’s finger._

“Ryu…”

The name trailed off into a moan.  Light gaped in horror at the other man, who calmly thanked him and resumed reading.  His mind was a whirlwind of things best not thought, indecent things, like tightly pursed lips and warmth and wetness and a tongue that felt like it could perform  _all sorts_  of wonders under the right circumstances.

He turned his attention back to the TV and pretended that the throw pillow he grabbed and placed in his lap was there because he wanted it to be and not at all a means to… conceal… certain things.  Light tried to think reasonably; Ryuzaki was Ryuzaki, after all.  The fact that he had just practically performed fellatio on an unsuspecting digit probably didn’t even register in that vast analytical space he called a mind.

Even so, Light couldn’t help but wonder if he would be willing to lick frosting off  _other places_  as well…


End file.
